He could calculate twenty moves ahead, but he couldn't express his feelings to the woman who loved him.

     

    To describe myself short and sweet: I am fiendish for routine and smitten with simplicity. I always pictured myself  with wild hair following bad decisions after failed promises. Kissed with cigarettes and fantasied by demons. I had dreamt of a life for my self that was an undeniable waltz with misfortune. I wanted something that would break me, turn me into something hideous. But as I get older, I can't help but fall in love with absolute simplicity. I always thought that I wanted something dangerous, but instead I long for the picturesque and not the gruesome. 

                I long for sitting in bed, listening to silence as I drink tea and read my books. I want to go on dates where the goal isn't rebellion but instead to eat sandwiches in an empty Jimmy Johns. I'm happier living in the moment instead of lingering on the idea of freedom dug up from the trash. I love my stability and my simplicity. I don't need to be fantastic, and I don't even need to be someone everyone wants. Really, I'm happy living my life with no guidelines or expectations. The simplicity if my routine and my daily life being slow and undeniably normal, makes me content.

I really am happy. I'm excited for the future, even if for now, I'm living just as I am.

“I’m walking out now into the soft light, the cooling him of evening, and I will love you tonight, and tomorrow, and still many more, so very many tomorrows.”
― Vladimir Nabokov, Letters to Vera